


The Other Side

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester - Freeform, F/M, Hand Jobs, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Vaginismus, Virginity, vulvodynia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 17:25:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10495950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Carrie finds herself the appointed tour guide of Dean Winchester. Alone in a cabin with Dean, for the better part of a week. What is a girl supposed to do? She and Dean have some ideas, unfortunately, a problem she has gets in the way. Dean is more than willing to help solve the riddle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this smut as an attempt to spread awareness for Vaginismus and Vulvodynia. Both conditions are very real and misunderstood or dismissed by the medical community and sometimes it takes several practitioners to even diagnose them. The end result can be a blow to self-esteem, unfulfilled sex life, scared women, frustrated partners, and a toll on mental health. It isn't known how many women suffer from it, as the condition is a source of embarrassment and many women do not get treatment for it. If you are suffering from it, know that you are not alone.
> 
> At the end of the piece are links for anyone who is interested in learning more.

 

Carrie shifted her pack and moved up ahead of Dean, her hiking boots squelching in a patch of melting snow. She looked back at him. His breath came in a patch of steam as he exhaled a heavy puff. His face was flushed pink from the cold and she was certain that hers was too.

He gave her a nod. "Good thing we're almost back because it's gettin' a little dark out here," he said.

"Yeah." She squinted at the treeline.

She pushed up ahead of him a little more. The cold was invigorating to her.

She heard Dean's step falter on something, turned around to see him stumble over a half hidden branch that had caught the toe of his boot. "Sonofabitch!"

She giggled.

He regained his stride and smiled flirtatiously. "Keep it up, Carrie."

"Keep it up and what?"

He smirked and waggled his eyebrows in answer and she felt her heart skip a beat. Day two of their week long excursion into the mountains and Dean Winchester had turned up the flirt strongly. His father was a family friend and wanted Dean to do some reconnaissance on these woods. Carrie came as tour guide, though she suspected Dean didn't really need one. Still, a week alone in the woods was always a risky prospect, especially if there actually was something out there.

The cabins stretched into view and she smiled.

"Home, sweet, home." She turned the door knob to the cabin, stomped the snow off her boots and set down the pack.

It was blessedly warm inside, the heat from the little cast iron pot bellied stove they'd left going filling the cabin.

She stripped off her gear and grabbed a pot, moving around efficiently, she knew her way around these cabins and these woods instinctively by now. She bent down to grab a can of beans and she could feel Dean's eyes boring into her back. She looked over her shoulder. "What?"

He gave her a smile and scratched the back of his head, perfect teeth glinting in a flash of white and eyes crinkling at the edges. "Just admiring the view is all."

She snorted, let her long blonde hair flip over her shoulder as she moved. "You're making me self-conscious."

"Nothing to be self-conscious over, sweetheart."

She flushed at the compliment as she struggled to open the can of beans, suddenly flustered and forgetting how to work the tin opener.

Dean approached, took it out of her hands, brushing hers with his. They were warm despite the cold. He twisted it open and dumped it into the pan. She watched his broad shoulders as he worked.

She could see the hint of his musculature beneath the hunting plaid. His powerful thighs were obvious as he crouched down for a moment to check something on the stove. She watched them bunch beneath his blue jeans as he squatted and then stood up. His slightly bowed legs were ridiculously sexy. She wondered if he knew.

He swung around to look at her again, ducked his head and looked at her with long lashes and wide green eyes--all porcelain perfection. Oh he knew. She was certain he knew.

"I hope we have more than beans to survive on for this week. Man needs more to put in his mouth than just that."

"Like what?" She responded with a smirk that showed her dimple.

"I can think of a few things." He stepped closer.

Her heart beat faster. _Don't lead him on, don't lead him on. But my god, LOOK at him._

She tilted her head up and Dean cupped her jaw in his hand almost tenderly, leaned down and pressed a kiss to her. His lips were warm and soft, felt amazing on her. He held it for a second and then backed away, going for the warmed beans on the stove. He pulled them away from the heat.

"Let's not burn these."

She was still weak from the kiss. Her body already missing his warmth.

 _Carrie, you're going to get yourself into trouble. Keep it to flirting._ Her practical mind was starting to piss her off. _  
_

He set the beans on the floor next to the stove and turned back around to look at her again. She melted under his gaze.

"Where's some utensils?" he asked.

* * *

 

They sat cross-legged, facing each other, the pan between them, fishing forkfuls of beans out of it.

"I don't think there's anything out here." She said. "I think it's a cold trail and the hikers missing was coincidence."

"It's never coincidence," Dean replied around a mouthful of food.

She shrugged. "Is your instinct telling you something is wrong out here?"

His eyes flicked up and down her body. "My instinct is telling me a lotta things."

"Dean, I'm serious."

"So am I." He smirked, took a sip of bottled beer.

"What are you, all of 22?"

"25." He said, with a little hurt huff at her mistaking him for a younger man. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"A lady never tells her age." She winked at him.

His pillowed lips curled into a smile, she saw the faintest flick of his tongue against the back of his teeth, the crinkles near his eyes.

He was the most handsome thing she'd ever seen. And here he was coming on to her. She knew there was no potential for a relationship here. Knew his job and that relationships didn't work out with her anyway. Certainly not with a young buck like Dean. He'd need things she wasn't able to give him. _But oh god, a taste. A taste would be so nice._

She set the fork down and suddenly Dean had cleared the space between them and she felt him tangle her in his arms before he pushed her gently over back ward and locked his lips on hers. Despite the ferocity with which he'd taken her down, his kisses were gentle.

Her surprise gave way to pleasure. His wood smoke, pine, whiskey smell in her nose. He hovered on all fours above her before kissing her again, testing, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She parted for him easily.

 _Oh my god. Carrie what the hell are you doing?_ The blood was rushing to her pelvis. This was all wrong. Good God, she shouldn't let this go in this direction. It was only going to end in disappointment. But Dean was like taking a single bite of cake and leaving the rest.

He kissed her neck. She tipped her head back, his lips pressed to her pulse point the most exquisite thing she'd ever felt.

She arched under him, breathless. He liked the effect he had on her. She could feel the little power rush he got from her response in his carefully constrained movements.

"Dean," she whispered. "The floor is hard."

His head turned to look at the foam mattress stretched out on the floor with her sleeping bags unzipped on top of it. "Not too far over to the bed."

She extricated herself from under him and crawled over to lay down, trying to clear the buzz of her thoughts. She was still on all fours when Dean was on her from behind, after a moment. Playfully lipping at her ear. His hands moving the hair away from her neck.

She let him pull her up to her knees, situate himself behind her and pull her against him. She fell back into his lap. His breath was hot in her ear.

"Dean." She squeaked.

"You want me to stop?"

 _God no,_ she thought, followed by _yes._

She remained silent, squeezing her eyes shut. This couldn't be good. Couldn't end well.

"Yeah."

He let her go and flopped onto his side on the mattress, breathing heavily.

She collapsed on her side next to him, drank in his features. Half-drunk with his beauty.

He smiled at her. "Need me to go back to my cabin?"

"No."

Famous last words.

* * *

 

She was a sinking ship and she was letting it go down with Dean at the helm. His lips when he kissed her again felt even better than the first time, soft and full and so gentle. He parted her mouth with his tongue and pushed his way inside. Carrie arched underneath him with a surprised whimper and she could feel him smile against her at the sound. His hands were bold, wandering everywhere, smoothing over her curves, her back, her arms, finally cupping her breast and she arched her back with a moan. It felt divine. She could feel the warmth rushing between her legs. Dean's kisses were growing harder, his hands teasing, she could feel the strength rising in him at her response.

"Dean." She said breathlessly as he continued to kiss the side of her mouth. "Wait." She pushed against his broad shoulders. He ignored her at first, keeping up his ministrations until she was more forceful with her shove and he broke off panting.

He cleared his throat pulling himself back to reality. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I can't..." she whispered, suddenly timid. The blush rose to her cheeks and she shifted back against the foam mattress spread on the floor, the sleeping bag making a nylon rustling as she moved.

He lifted his head off the pillow and smiled at her as if she were being silly and he were indulging her in her silliness. He pressed his leg against hers. "Yes, you can."

"No." Carrie met his eyes. "I can't. Dean, I really can’t."

He blinked, his hand going to the buttons on her flannel shirt, his fingers lingering there teasingly. "Sure seems like you want to." He kept his thumb against the button and he studied her face.

"I do." She pushed his hand away. "I can't."

His eyes seemed to sober a little at her distress, the look of lust ebbing a fraction. "Somethin' happen?"

"No." A flush rose to her cheeks, her heart pounding in anticipation of the conversation she was about to be forced into. "I can't."

"Okay," he said, clearly concerned. He untangled himself from her and rolled onto his elbows looking at her almost shyly. He nudged her cheek with his nose. "Hey, it's okay. Don't get upset." He smiled, playful, a flash perfect white teeth.

_Oh my God, that face._

"I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want." He was suddenly all boyish charm and cuteness. Any trace of his bad boy bravado vanishing under the impression that he'd intimidated her. Somehow this side of him felt more genuine to Carrie.

She dropped her voice as if someone might be listening even though they were alone in the middle of nowhere. "I want to, but I can't."

"I've got protection," he offered.

"No, I'm on the pill for menstrual cramps anyway." She felt her face flush to the root of her hair. This talk never got any less awkward. "My pelvic floor..." she floundered, watching his show of incomprehension. "It's messed up. I have vaginismus."

His smile disappeared and he pulled back fractionally. "Wh...what..." his perfect lips worked in a stutter for a second. "Is that?"

"It's a problem where my pelvic floor muscles are too tight for sex." She rolled away from him unable to make eye contact. Her heart starting to pound. "Jesus, this is embarrassing. It's like the most awkward thing in the world. I'm sorry I led you on." She looked up at the knotted log walls. "You can go back to your cabin. I won't be mad or weird or anything."

He put his hand in her long blonde hair. "Naw. It's warm in here." He paused. "Hey sweetheart, you can talk to me you know."

Carrie stayed quiet a minute, torn between wanting to sink through the floorboards or bolt and lock herself into the tiny bathroom.

"Talk to me." He put his arm around her, spooning her from behind. His heat on her back.

"I just can't do it. It hurts too much."

"Shouldn't hurt," he said into her ear.

"Well it does!" she snapped. "Okay?"

She could feel him stiffen a little at the rebuke.

"Dean, I'm being a bitch. I'm sorry." She turned around in his arms and faced him. "I'm not mad at you and I should know better than to lead you on and back out. You're just so..." she paused, looked into his light green eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"Fucking handsome, I kind of wanted a taste." She bit her lip.

He responded immediately to the praise, almost visibly puffing his chest out with approval. A cocky smile made him wrinkle the corners of his eyes. "You did, huh? Well I'm happy to lend a taste." His hand went to her jaw. "You want to tell me about it?" His tone was gentle.

She pulled away and sat up Indian style beside the foam mattress thrown on the floor. He laid where he was and watched her.

"I've tried so many times and it's so painful... it's like someone's tearing me up with red hot pokers."

He winced. "Well, that sounds like crap loads of suck."

"You could say that.” Carrie ran a hand through her straight blonde hair, pushing it out of her face.

"Are you a virgin then?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Like I mean have you ever actually...succeeded?"

"No. Never made it all the way. "

"Can..." she watched him think, "I dunno, doctors do anything to help?"

She shook her head. "I mean I guess there's some sort of expensive involved Physical Therapy stretching that might help to train your vagina or something."

They both laughed and he smiled flirtatiously. "I think I want that job." He put a hand on her knee, rolled onto his back, squinting up at her. "We can have a lot of fun without sex, you know."

"I know," she responded.

The light glinted off the cupid's bow on Dean's top lip as his tongue moved to moisten it in the dry air. "You don't sound too excited."

"I feel so ridiculously broken. It's something everyone can do and here I am."

His hand stroked her knee. "Come here."

She laid back down beside him and he pulled her to him, kissed her gently. "You want to pretend we're in junior high and make out?" He touched his nose to hers, once again pulling out the playful air. "I'm not above a dry hump you know."

She giggled. "You must be really hard up. The week of celibacy in the cabin killing you, huh?"

"I'm just open to all sorts of fun. It's like a smorgasbord." His hand ghosted over her arm. "There isn't just one entree, you know?"

"I don't know. Isn't there kinda like a main course?" She watched his expression.

"Well that's great, don't get me wrong, but if I'm at a buffet I'll eat a bit of all of it." He still had the playful smile around his lips. His teeth were so perfect. His eyes searched her face. "I mean do you want to have sex? I'm more than willing to help you with that problem, baby."

"We're not going to be able to,” she said obstinately.

"Hey, I got lots of time to practice." He toyed with her hair.

God the offer sounded amazing. A solid week of Dean out here with her. "If you don't mind that we're never going to get to the main event." She put a hand over her face. "God this is so embarrassing."

Dean took her wrist and gently pried it away. "Trust me. I can work wonders." He said in a darkly serious voice. She felt her stomach drop. "Give me a chance. I'll do more stretching and training than any physical therapy, sweetheart."

She knew that was right. No question there.

"You can't get mad at me if I can't, Dean."

He furrowed his brow. "Why would I get mad?"

"Other guys have. That's the usual response. Frustration."

He looked offended for her. "Well, other guys are fucking douchebags."

He had a hold of her hand, was twining his fingers in hers gently, shifting closer to her. He smelled like beer and leather and soap. "I gotcha, baby. Nothin' you don't want to do. No pressure. Let's just have fun and see how far we get in a week, huh?" He brought a knee up between her legs and it was utterly fucking delicious. "Maybe you just haven't had the right guy rev your engine."

* * *

 

 

Carrie nodded her approval and Dean was all over her. Kissing her lips, making his way down her neck, running his hand over her back. He pressed her to him and twined his legs with hers. She ground against his thigh and his lips quirked into a grin. "That's it, baby."

She kept kissing him, pressing into him, until they were both panting and Dean rolled her under him. He stood over her on his hands and knees for a moment, his green eyes intent, his chest heaving with his attempt to catch his breath. The pendant that he wore around his neck swung between them for a minute. His breaths were on her cheek.

"You're so beautiful," Dean whispered. "Such a pretty girl."

She reached up between his spread legs and cupped him through his jeans. Dean made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a yelp and his stomach muscles contracted as he arched his back in surprise. His thighs tightened on hers as he instinctively tried to close his legs.

She smirked at him. "And you are very touchable."

He grinned playfully, regaining his center.

"My pelvic floor is broke but there is nothing wrong with my hands," she quipped.

"You have to prove that to me." He said, mischievously, a glint of challenge in his eye.

Carrie put her hand back against the bulge in his jeans, rubbing her palm against the seam. He closed his eyes and made a delicious choked groan in the back of his throat. All masculine and pleasure. She pressed the heel of her hand against his hardness, fascinated by the feel of him underneath the thin blue jeans. Dean's lashes fluttered against his skin and his mouth opened a little. She watched him in fascination. He was so handsome.

He tilted his head back slightly, then dropped it forward a little with another moan as she slipped her hand under his waistband. She loved having him splayed above her like this, hands and knees. Just a little bit open so she could slip her hands far back. He gasped as she slipped her fingers into his underwear, ghosting them over his hardness-- then a little bit further back into the softness there. She brought her knee up and smiled flirtatiously. She could feel her own heart pounding with his reactions.

She pulled her hand away from his balls and undid his belt to lower his jeans a little, just enough to slip her hands into the back of them and grab a handful of his ass.

He lowered his weight partially onto her, supporting the rest of it with his forearms and kissed her again. She loved the feel of being snug under his weight, his legs and arms framing her from both sides.

"You tell me what you need. This is about you."

"No, its about both of us,” she whispered.

"No." He ground his hip against her, his lips curving into his lopsided Harrison Ford grin. "This is about you. You're in control."

She reached for his waistband and he took her hand in his, pulling it away. "I wanna help. I can help."

"I wanna get you off." She insisted, feeling a little nervous from his intensity suddenly.

He smiled, boyish and soft. "Oh believe me, we'll get me off." He nudged her nose with his own. He had to have been the most handsome man she'd ever seen. "Let me make this nice for you, sweetheart."

"I won't be able to have sex, Dean. No matter what we do."

"Hey." He leaned down and kissed the outside of her ear and she wriggled underneath him. "That is not a problem. We've got all week. Let's just take it easy and see how far we get."

* * *

 

 

The practice sessions came frequently over the course of a day or two, Dean an eager participant in what seemed to end as a dry hump or heavy teenage petting sessions.

Carrie lay on her back and Dean tugged her jeans down and off. He kissed the inside of her knee, letting his lips linger against her skin. She felt his tongue slide against the tendon there and put her fingers in his hair. He kissed higher and she tried to grab a hunk near the back of his head but it was too short to find a purchase on. His lips were on her thighs and his hands gently coaxing her legs apart. She moved her hand up to the top of his head and was finally able to get a handful of his soft dark hair. He sucked on her inner thigh until she cried out and he answered with a muffled moan of his own.

He moved up again, closer to her pelvis and looked up at her through his long dark eyelashes.

"No." She arrested his movement by tightening her hold on his hair.

"What?" He froze at the word and then relaxed with a smile. "You don't want me to go down on you?"

Carrie could feel the flush in her cheeks and shook her head.

"Why not?"

She didn't say anything, just shook her head, uncharacteristically shy.

"Okay." She was afraid he'd be hurt, but he seemed more puzzled. And then he picked up momentum again with his mouth on her hip, sucking, tracing the muscles of her abdomen with his tongue sliding up her rib cage until he reached the curve of her breast, locked his lips around her nipple and sucked.

"Oh god, Dean." She arched her back into him. He smiled against her skin and kept up his teasing, adding his tongue to the mix. Carrie felt like she was going to come apart under him.

She gasped, bucked, panted. He eased off and let her catch her breath then moved up to her mouth, his lips swollen from kissing her body. She kissed him and he moved his hand down between her legs. She moaned as he traced gently around her vulva and then moved back further. She could feel the familiar sting before he'd even fully reached her entrance. She reached for his hand and stilled it.

"No?" He asked.

"Pressing too hard. Gentle."

He ghosted his finger against her skin. "Better?"

She nodded.

He circled around gently and started to push inside. There was a burn and she tensed. He stilled his hand, giving her time to adjust.

"Am I hurting you?" He panted hotly into her ear.

She didn't know what to say. It did but she didn't want him to stop either. She shook her head.

He slid in farther and it really did hurt with a stretching burn that made her clutch her arms around his neck. Her muscles seized down on him and he felt it and froze.

"Don't move." She whispered. "Give me a second."

"Need me to pull out?"

"No. It'll hurt."

"Okay." She could read the stress off of him and suddenly felt horrible. She knew this would be the inevitable result. Why did she let him even try?

He read her. "Hey, don't worry about me."

"Okay." She said, feeling tears threaten.

He pulled out and it hurt like hell. A solid burning cramping.

She curled up on her side and fought breaking down.

"Hey. Hey." Dean pulled her against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's not that." She rolled her eyes upward and blinked rapidly. "I feel like shit. I feel like I'm so fucking broken... And then I have to go ruin it crying and I'm so sorry."

"Hey." His voice was a little firmer. He touched her chin with his hand, made her meet his soft green eyes. "I knew what I was getting into."

"But I can tell how stressed you are and..."

"Hey. You're awesome. It's okay."

He wiped her tear away with his thumb.

She silently rode out a cramp.

"We can try again later if you want to." he suggested.

"Why would you want to do that?" She asked, still feeling embarrassed and irrationally ashamed.

"I told you. I take my job as Vagina Trainer very seriously."

She laughed.

"No woman leaves a sack session with Dean Winchester in tears." He grinned cockily, all boyish enthusiasm, clearly trying to make her feel better.

Despite herself, it worked.

"What about you?" She traced her hand over the ass of the denim, unaware that her nose and cheeks were still flushed from crying.

"Well when we're ready to go again, we can take care of me. Little Dean doesn't it like it when women cry. Makes him shy and he hides."

She laughed again.

He kissed her lips with a deep tenderness that made her feel appreciated here and now.

* * *

 

Dean's finger pressed against her again. He seemed a little hesitant this time but after a moment, he pushed inside again with the same stinging burn. Carrie felt her pelvic muscles seize up.

Dean did too. He was watching her for cues, she could feel his focus. He remained very still, matching his breathing with hers.

She felt self aware. Painfully aware of the way he was catering to her, twisting his arm. "Is your hand cramping?"

"Shhhh." He breathed, closing his eyes, tuning into her. "Relax, sweetheart. Take all the time you need."

Her arms went around his neck and she leaned her face against his. He found her ear, started to nuzzle and kiss, exhaling softly into it. She responded, felt her muscles uncoil just a fraction. He moved his finger slightly. There was still a burning that made her grit her teeth but this time she felt her pulse start to work harder. He stopped when she tightened up again.

"Touch me," he whispered.

"What?"

"Do you like to touch me?" He started to kiss her neck, keeping his finger still and quiet inside her.

"Yes." She gasped.

"Go ahead. Put those little hands on my cock."

She undid his belt and pushed her hand inside of his jeans. He groaned. "Oh god that feels good." He whispered, moving his hip a bit. She wrapped her hand around his hardness.

Dean felt her resistance soften and he sank a little deeper and twisted his finger just a fraction, bearing some weight into the front wall of her vagina. Her heart slammed into her chest and she groaned, tightening her own hold on him.

"God, Dean..." 

"Oh that's good, baby." She could feel his muscles coiling underneath her touch. The adrenaline telling him to fuck that he was holding carefully in reserve for her. His penis twitched under her hand.

He found that spot in her again. She dropped her head back.

"Dean." It was was a whine. Her respiration sped up. The pressure hurt a little but the pleasure, the wanting to be pressed against, was quickly out pacing the pain.

She just wanted to be pressed under him and bore down into the shitty foam mattress. He wasn't doing that. He was lying on his side facing her, his finger twitching a little more boldly this time. Rhythmically, gently hitting that spot in her.

She lost her focus on him. Squeezing harder then stopping altogether. He flicked a second finger against the stretched skin behind her opening, pressing gently against the perineum. The muscles were tight and unyielding at first but she felt them warm and start to give under his touch. She wanted to grind her hip against him. She did a little and he lowered his palm for her to press against the heel of his hand.

She gasped and let him go.

 He smiled. "Come on, baby. It's okay. Do what you need to."

She moved again. The pleasure starting to overwhelm her reserve until she shifted a little and the burning tightness returned. She stilled, frustrated. He stayed right with her. Calm, patient. He moved the heel of her hand against her again and she moaned.

"That's it, baby. God, you're so beautiful. So pretty. Pretty girl." He started to nip her neck.

She started to close her thighs to contain the sensation.

He whispered. "Stay open for me, baby."

She was vaguely aware of of a second finger joining the first.

She whimpered in discomfort.

"That's it, honey." He pushed forward again and her stomach coiled. Again. Again a little harder. She could feel warmth spread, her belly tighten. Dean groaned into her ear. Low and deep and masculine and she cried out, a series of contractions rocking her.

It took a minute for them to subside and then he was slowly pulling out, the sting was there again. Not as badly.

She went for Dean immediately, pawing at his pants, working his shaft with her hand. He chuckled throatily and pulled his jeans down.

"You want to try sweetheart?" he asked, pulling on top of her. She could feel his erection against her hip. Thick. Impossibly big.

"I don't... I don't think you'll fit."

He kissed her ear and then bit at the juncture of her jawline. She wanted him to fill her so damned badly.

"I don't..." she mumbled somewhat incoherently.

He was working his knee between her legs until she opened to him.

"I'll be very gentle." He whispered. "We'll stop. You're in charge. You tell me when to stop."

He captured her mouth with his, one hand pulling her arm above her head, the other between them, opening her a little. "Ready?" He lined himself up, pressed just slightly against her entrance and held there.

Her body clamped down but he stayed, not pushing in, just gently resting against her warmth like a softly repeated question. He kept kissing her.

His chest was against hers, the slide of his skin against hers fucking amazing.

And then he was shifting and pushing again, a little firmer. It burned. She cried out.

He hesitated, still where he was, trembling a little from the effort of keeping himself still for her. "So beautiful," he said.

"Dean, I'm scared."

"Don't be scared." He whispered. "You're in charge." Even as he pushed in a little more, changing the angle of his hip and taking his weight on both his elbows. The tip of his penis was firmly at her entrance. She wanted him in her even though it was pleasant agony to have him there.

He pushed just an inch again and she felt him start to stretch her open. Her legs started to clench against his hips, attempting to snap shut as a reflex against the sensation.

 "Stay open, baby." He purred in a low bedroom voice.

She tried to relax, but she was panting, clawing against his back and shoulders with her fingers. "Dean, stop."

He did immediately. "Need me out?" He asked.

"No. I..." he waited for her, she could feel the sweat on his back under her fingers. She changed her mind. "Keep going."

He thrust in a little further and she felt her vagina contract and narrow. So did he. He grunted. "You're so tight."

He reached between them with a hand and started to rub her belly. "Relax." He seemed to sense he wasn't going to make any more headway. "We gotta switch up positions. I'm outta juice. I'm gonna pull out a little." He did and she cried out. He tipped off of her and laid down panting.

"Okay?" he asked, his breath coming quickly.

She'd gone a little quiet and nodded.

His brow furrowed a little. He rolled to his side and pulled her against him, nuzzling. She put her arms around his neck.

She could see him thinking, even as he was showering her body with gently gliding touches up and around her shoulders. His erection was stiff against her leg. Not as stiff as earlier, flagging a little. She got the impression he was touching her to keep the momentum going, keep them both eager.

"Dean you don't have to keep tr--"

"Shhh." He cut her off with a kiss, parting her lips under his and pushing his tongue into her mouth. She whimpered, her body moving against his. He kept at it, holding the kiss until she was out of breath and dizzy, his hands went down to her ass, pressing her closer to him. Kneading the cheeks and the back of her thighs. She wanted him so damned badly, felt the warmth gather between her legs. "Dean."

He put his lips next to her ear. "Try again?" His voice was low and rough.

"Yes."

Dean took her leg and put it over his hip. She could feel the length of him between her thighs as he shifted to adjust himself. He pushed her higher above him and tried to angle into her. She felt her legs try to snap close. "Honey. Stay open."

She felt tears gather. "I can't."

"You need to stop?" he asked. Still patient.

She shook her head. "I want you in me, but..."

"No buts.” He whispered, locking gazes with her, rolling his pelvis suggestively. "We try until one of us calls it quits, okay?"

His big green eyes were earnest.

"You can't be having f...fun." She buried her cheek against his neck.

"Challenge is fun." He closed his big arms around her, embracing her in his warmth. "Naked women are fun."

She giggled.

"Boobs are fun."

Carrie reached over and grasped his penis in her hand, gave him a squeeze. He rolled his eyes into the back of his head. "That's awesome."

She kept at it until she had him panting and moaning, cupping him and stroking, feeling the surge of power making him gasp gave her. He rocked into her hand. "Carrie...you keep doing that the show's gonna be over. "

She grinned and he rolled her so she was facing away from him spooned her from behind. He shifted below her and she felt him bend her forward slightly. He settled near her entrance and held still a moment before slowly trying to guide himself in. Her body tensed again.

"Good girl." He whispered, a hand in her hair, gently stroking. "You're so hot... god. Seeing you like this." He pushed against the ring of muscle, wedging his knee under hers, opening her leg subtly. She gasped, mouth open in surprise as he pushed his head in a little more. The stretch burned and tore. She tried to control her breathing.

Dean was very slow, stilling every time her muscles clenched, his hand rubbing her neck, whispering how beautiful she was. How perfect. She could feel him trembling with the effort to hold back. He pushed her, bending her forward a bit and gave a slow upward movement of his hips. The pain grew almost unbearable for a moment and he froze afraid he'd hurt her.

"Wait,” she whispered, almost trembling. He did. She gave herself a minute to adjust to his girth.

Before she could panic, he was sliding further, filling her. The pain eased for a minute and she could feel how good it felt to have him there for a moment but then when he began to rock, the burning pain flared again.

"Dean, no."

He stilled. "I'm in, sweetheart. You're doin' it."

"Don't move."

He didn't, but he pulled her back toward his chest, changing the angle inside her. His penis pressed against the front of her and she felt her heart speed up.

His breath was in her ear, harsh partly panting. "What do you need, baby?" He rubbed her belly with his hand, still joined. She felt her body contract against his presence.

"I don't know," she whispered.

He moved his hips and the burning started again. "No. Please."

"Okay,” he said. "You're doing good, sweetheart."

He kissed her ear and she could feel her heart pounding again. Somewhere below the pain her pleasure center thought that having Dean in her was a good thing. His hand slid down between her legs and gently began to rub her. Pleasure shot through her and she moaned, felt Dean twitch inside her at the vocalization.

He kept his gentle exploring up and finally started a rhythm with his fingers. It was wonderful to feel him inside her, her muscles clenching against him as he urged her to come.

He whispered darkly in her ear. "That's it, baby. So beautiful. You're so...beautiful." His fingers kept their rhythm. His other hand snaked under her side to pull her tight to his chest. She gripped his arm, feeling the build of tension. He was panting, shaking, trying to keep himself still. "Come on, sweetheart."

He seemed to know when she was going to finish. "Oh Dean! Dean!" She cried out and her body clenched around him, the sensation of being full during climax completely different than that of being empty. The pressure against him made Dean groan.

He leaned his head against her cheek as she rode out her climax and tried to repress the instinctive buck of his hips. He started to pull out and the pain started again. "Wait!" She panted, steeling herself. He paused.

She gritted her teeth until he was out of her and the pain stopped. She lay panting on her side. Was aware of Dean behind her frustrated and unsatisfied. She felt an odd mix of emotions, rolled over and reached for him, his body arching with a gasp and she worked him roughly with several good pumps that brought his eyes rolling into the back of his head before he spurted into the sheets and on her hand. She let him go and he laid there a moment. A little stunned by the events.

She sat there legs folded under her. Head bowed. Out of the corner of her vision she saw Dean stir. His focus was on her. Those beautiful eyes, he seemed concerned. He was disheveled and sweaty, his own gorgeous body catching the dim light of the cabin as he twisted to prop himself up.

"Hey," he said softly.

She turned away fully, swallowed at the lump and tried to keep her breathing even.

"Hey," she said as tears leaked out of her closed eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "It hurt but..."

"I'm sorry." He seemed suddenly shy, sitting up, his pendant swinging from his bare chest. "I would have stopped...I didn't know."

She shook her head. "I wanted you to keep going."

She saw him close down awkwardly. She reached for her t-shirt and pulled it on in silence and then fished for her pants, ignoring the sting.

He swallowed, all long lashes and Heart Breaker looks. She couldn't believe she'd even been with someone that beautiful. And then disappointed him so much.

He looked like he was trying to say something. His mouth opened a little and he went quiet.

She started to cry. Dropped her jeans on the floor and put her hands over her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?" He asked from his spot on the sleeping bag tangle. "I'm sorry I hurt you..." He trailed off, confused. "I don't know what's going on here." He gave a nervous little half grin.

She stilled on her spot on the sheets, looking very vulnerable. Her uterus cramped again. She didn't know what to describe to him. She felt oddly alone and rejected. She was amazed. Amazed that they had succeeded and disappointed that her body betrayed her. Betrayed him. He'd been nothing but patient and then he'd not even been able to move inside her.

She was cramping still. Feeling like something awful had happened and yet at the same time Iike maybe something good had. But worse of all was the disappointment from him. The feeling of not being sexy and functional and desirable.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" he asked. "You gotta talk to me here? I'm getting nervous."

"I don't know what I'm feeling." She reached for him and he took her hand and tugged her down with him. He pulled her against his bare chest gently. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his male warmth.

"I don't...I feel like I disappointed you,” she said tearfully and pulled away to watch him.

"What? No." He wrinkled his brow. "The only thing I'm disappointed in is you cryin'." He gave a nervous, almost tremulous smile. "I wanted this to be nice." A wave of emotion swept across his handsome face. It startled her a little, brought her out of herself. Made her realize that maybe she wasn't the only one affected in this. It was a surprising thought.

He paused hushed. "I took your virginity, didn't I?" He spoke it as if the weight of it hadn't occurred to him before.

"Technically, yes."

His jaw tightened. He nodded a little.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Wanted it to be nice."

"It was nice." She searched his green flecked eyes and somehow understood that this was hard on his self esteem. He felt he'd hurt her. Taken advantage. "It was nice. I mean it hurt but it was nice. Dean... I'm sorry I'm a wreck. I just. I feel like everyone can do this but me and I want you to enjoy yourself too and this is a really big step for me...I've tried for years and no one has been patient enough. And I'm 33 and I just lost my virginity."

She met his gaze.

He stroked her back as she talked.

She leaned her head onto his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head.

"Well, sex with feelings is just a pain in the ass isn't it?" He asked jokingly.

She laughed. "Yeah. It seems to be."

* * *

 

Carrie threw some logs onto the fire. It had gotten ungodly cold. Snow falling in a rapid pace. She and Dean driven inside by the inclement weather. He watched outside impatiently through the window, his broad shoulders set in a line of tension. He was not a man who liked to be hemmed in so it seemed.

She shifted carefully, still sore from last night. She rummaged through her pack for some Tylenol and swallowed a few.

Dean's eyes were on her. He'd noticed. The atmosphere had been stilted and a little awkward since their sexual encounter. She tried to breezily act like nothing had happened but Dean seemed somehow subdued. Guilty. Like her malfunctioning pelvic floor was his fault. Men and their goddamned egos.

She felt like she had period cramps.

Dean shifted his gaze to the window again.

She couldn't fucking take it anymore.

She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso. Laid her cheek against the expanse of muscle in his back. He stiffened a little, then she felt his hand on her forearm and he turned around to face her.

"Hey." He said, searching her eyes, pursing his perfect lips.

She looked up at him. "Hey."

Even as they were with this weirdness between them, he sent a shudder of lust through her. She told her hormones to calm down. She was still sore as shit and dealing with emotional fallout. She didn't need his dick in her right now. _Fucking sex drive._

"Somethin wrong?" He asked quietly, almost almost a bit timidly.

"No. Not with me, but something sure seems wrong with you."

He shook his head. "Nothin's wrong, sweetheart."

Carrie surveyed him with disappointment. "Yeah. Nothing's wrong."

He turned away. "Can we not?"

"Not what?"

"Argue?" He ducked his head, glanced over his shoulder at her.

She felt tears threaten, choked them back down.

Carrie moved over to the pot-bellied stove and stood in front of its warmth, feeling sorry for herself.

Dean watched her and sighed. He stood by the window again, looking out like a thoroughbred trapped in his stall. All impatience and pent up energy.

_Why had she even let him even try?_

She stood up and began to walk to grab some more wood and suddenly Dean was behind her. He wrapped his arms around her like she'd done with him and kissed the top of her head tenderly. She wanted to cry. He leaned over and kissed the shell of her ear and she felt heat rush through her body from his presence. His lips on her were so nice.

"You're sore." He said.

She turned around in his arms. "I'm okay."

He touched his thumb under her chin. "The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me..." she paused.

He hugged her to his chest and he was warm and safe.

"I'm glad you were my first. If I tried this with anyone. I'm glad it was you."

He tightened his arms around her with the admission, slid his fingers into the hair in the back of her scalp and pressed her head to him.

The tenderness of it took her breath.

"What man is ever going to want me like this?"

"Hey." His voice was sharp. "Don't think like that."

He tilted her chin up to look at him. "You are smart and sexy and beautiful. And brave." He smirked, those adorable little crinkles developing around his eyes. "And you know how to use your hands. The suggestion was flirtatious."

She put them on his belt and tugged playfully, bit her lip. "Yeah?"

He smiled down. "Yeah, you do...You're gonna find the right guy."

Her heart fell a little even though she knew it was coming.

"Just not you."

"Sweetheart, I'm not the right guy for anyone. I'm just signing up for some fun in a cabin with a hot chick."

She tugged on his belt again, pulling him closer. "I knew that."

He let her guide him.

"Do you know how hot you are?" She asked.

He smirked again, blinking with his long sooty lashes. "Uh huh. But...but why don't you tell me."

"You're so hot." She tugged him to her so that their pelvises were together. "That I want to..." she kissed the side of his neck and he closed his eyes and leaned into her. She snaked her hands into the back pocket of his jeans and squeezed the powerful muscles of his ass through the denim. "Take a hold of you. Make you..." she kissed him again. "Pant and moan..."

He gave a little moan at the suggestion.

She smiled against his skin. "Make you not forget me when you leave."

His hands were roaming her back. "I like the way you think."

She slid her hands out of his back pockets to the front and unbuckled his belt very slowly, started to nudge him toward the mattress on the floor. He took the cue, shuffled backwards. "I'm gonna make you..." she gave him a little shove, he resisted playfully, but even so his body rocked with the force of it.

"Make me what?" He asked. She could see how much he was liking their game.

She pushed her hand under his waistband and let her fingers linger over the hair there.

Dean stiffened, inhaled sharply.

"Gonna pin you down. And I'm gonna make you..." she grazed the base of his penis just for the jump. "Forget that there is anything else in the world but my hands and my mouth."

"Already have." Dean gave her his almost smile. Eyes mischievous.

She pushed his pants and briefs down and freed his erection. "Lie back."

"Yes m'am." He replied cheekily. He flopped down onto the spread of sleeping bags.

"Most guys don't like hand jobs much but I'm gonna make you think of my hands as anything but a consolation prize."

She knelt down over him and traced her finger along the coronal ridge near the head of his penis.

He groaned.

She stopped, ran her hands up his chest and leaned over and kissed him. He met her with enthusiasm.

"You're so gorgeous," he whispered.

"You gonna let me have my way?" She asked.

"Always," Dean's voice was dark. "Always. Anything you want, baby."

She grasped his shaft.

He whimpered.

Her own body gave a delicious lurch at the sound. She was going to enjoy this so, so much. And she was going to make sure that Dean did too.

**Author's Note:**

> http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/175261.php
> 
> http://www.webmd.com/women/guide/vulvodynia#1


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